


Demora

by NB_Cecil



Series: Chulu Kidfics [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Babysitting, Canon? What is canon?, Caring!Bones, Chekov has a hard time with the new baby, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Formalwear, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Kid Fic, Kidfic, Life Milestones, M/M, Married!Chulu, Mild Angst, Most of this is fluff and there is really very little angst, Multi, Postnatal depression, Pregnancy, Proud Parents, Sulu and Chekov are just excellent together, Swordfighting, Trans Character, Trans!Pavel Chekov, Uhura is glamorous, Vignettes, embarrassing parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil
Summary: Vignettes from Demora Sulu’s life from when she is in utero up to her early 20s.Demora is born between the end of TOS and TMP. I play fast and loose with the canon timeline.
Relationships: Christine Chapel & Nyota Uhura, Christine Chapel & Nyota Uhura & Demora Sulu, Demora Sulu & Hikaru Sulu, James T. Kirk & Demora Sulu, James T. Kirk & Hikaru Sulu & Pavel Chekov, Leonard “Bones” McCoy & Demora Sulu, Pavel Chekov & Demora Sulu, Pavel Chekov & Hikaru Sulu & Demora Sulu, Pavel Chekov & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Pavel Chekov/Hikaru Sulu
Series: Chulu Kidfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758469
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Demora

News

“Well? You said you had news?” Kirk prompted, looking expectantly at the screen.

Chekov, on the screen, grinned awkwardly down at his lap. _”Er, yes Admiral... ve have some news...”_

Sulu, seated beside Chekov on a violently pink leather sofa placed a hand on his husband’s belly. _”Shall I tell him, Pav?”_ Chekov nodded. Kirk wished they’d hurry up. As fond as he was of his former shipmates, they had caught him in the office with a pile of paperwork to wade through before the end of the working day. _”Pavel’s pregnant!”_ Sulu announced, beaming at Kirk from the padd’s screen.

“Really?” Kirk grinned back. “That’s fantastic news. When’s the due date?”

 _”July.”_ Chekov said.

“Ah, a summer baby. Lovely. And you have some time to prepare for parenthood.”

 _”Yes, Hikaru is painting ze baby’s bedroom zis weekend,_ ” Chekov bounced slightly in his seat as he spoke.

“Lovely.” Kirk hated to cut them short, but he really had to be getting on. “Listen, I have to go,” he said. “I’ve got a ton of work to do, but I really am very happy for you both.”

 _”Thanks, Jim.”_ Sulu voice echoed tinnily through the speaker. _”Bye.”_ He and Chekov waved as Kirk cut the comm.

Babysitting

“I’m just so tired, Leonid.”

McCoy took the four-week-old infant gently from Chekov’s unresisting arms, cradled her against his chest with one arm, and with his free hand on the exhausted new father’s shoulder, guided him down to sit on the sofa. “I know. It’s hard, but I’m here and I’m gonna help,” he said soothingly.

“I’m beginning to envy Hikaru going back to vork,” Chekov sighed. “I vould give my right arm to sleep one night alone in a cabin on a starship right now.”

“I know how you feel. When Jo was a baby I was tempted to take extra on-call night shifts so I could sleep at my office.” McCoy smoothed the soft, dark hair on Demora’s head as he spoke. “She’s a cute little thing though, isn’t she?”

“Oh she is!” Chekov grinned, “and I vouldn’t vish her gone, but she cries all night and I have to get up to feed her and I swear she chews on my nipples even though she has no teeth. They’re wery sore...” He trailed off. “I’m sorry. Zat was too much information.”

“I’m a medical doctor,” McCoy reassured him. “Or at least, I was. Nothin’s gonna phase me.” He sat down in an armchair. The baby in his arms blinked slowly up at him with big, brown eyes, smiled, and burped. A wide grin spread across McCoy’s face at the sight.

Chekov put a hand on his left breast and announced, “I don’t like zese.” McCoy looked up from the baby and nodded, waiting for Chekov to offload his woes. “Zey are huge now and zey ache. And a maternity bra is not exactly flattering on a man.”

“Gender isn’t the clothes you wear or the shape your body is,” McCoy said. He’d had many a conversation in a professional capacity with Chekov about his gender dysphoria over the years.

“I know zat.” Chekov crossed his arms protectively over his stomach. “ I know it, but I don’t _feel_ it, you know?”

“Mhm,” Bones hummed, nodding.

Chekov lifted the hem of his shirt. “And you see zese stretch marks? And zis?” He pinched his flesh between thumb and forefinger. “All saggy.”

“Hey, you just had a baby,” McCoy protested. “Cut yourself some slack.”

Chekov prodded miserably at his belly. “Vhat if Hikaru doesn’t like me anymore? Vhat if he thinks I’m an ugly, saggy old woman?” He sniffed back the tears threatening to spring from his eyes.

Demora stirred in McCoy’s arms. “No,” he said, bouncing the baby gently as he talked. “I’ve seen the way Hikaru looks at you. Hell would have to freeze over before he stopped finding you irresistibly attractive.”

“Really?” Chekov pulled his shirt down and wiped the back of a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah, really. It’s hard to miss.”

“I guess you’re right.” Chekov only sounded half-convinced.

“Listen,” McCoy got up from the chair. “I’ll take Demora into the kitchen and give you a bit of space to get some rest, and while I’m there I’ll see if I can make us some dinner. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes. Zat sounds great.” Chekov grinned gratefully up at him. “I might call Hikaru on the comm, actually. He should have finished his shift by now.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” McCoy left the room, closing the door behind himself to give Chekov and his husband some privacy.

McCoy held Demora against his shoulder and chattered to her while he tried to slice vegetables one-handed. “Your Daddy’s an excellent chef but he ain’t here right now, so your Pa’s gonna have to put up with old Leonard’s cookin’.” The baby gurgled, which McCoy took as an invitation to continue, his Southern drawl thickening as he spoke. “I hope he likes wonky carrots ‘cause that’s what he’s gettin’. They used to say they make you see in the dark, but that’s an old wives’—.” He broke off at the sound of a raised voice from the next door room. “Your Papa’s havin’ a hard old time right now,” he said. “A hard old time alright.”

 _”Hikaru, do you still love me?”_ McCoy couldn’t help overhearing Chekov’s anguished wail. A pause, and then quieter but still audible, _”Are you sure?”_ The rest of the conversation was too quiet for McCoy to make out. He shook his head slowly and went back to hacking at the carrots.

When Demora started grizzling ten minutes later, McCoy broke off with the cooking and felt under her dress with his hand. “Not the diaper,” he muttered and hushed and bounced her, pacing the length of the kitchen hoping the motion would soothe her, but she continued to fidget and grizzle until finally she opened her mouth, sucked in a big breath and wailed. McCoy sighed and reluctantly carried her over to the living room door. He pushed it open with a “Hey,” entered, and as unobtrusively as he could while carrying a screaming baby, approached Chekov—still seated on the sofa, wiping his nose on a tissue and talking quietly to his husband on the comm screen—and deposited the child carefully against his chest. “I think she’s hungry,” McCoy said apologetically. Chekov nodded, scooped his daughter up and began unbuttoning his shirt. McCoy went back to the kitchen to finish preparing the meal.

Chekov’s mood was noticeably better over dinner, the chat with Sulu and the hour’s respite from the demands of the baby having had a restorative effect.

“I’m not much of a cook,” McCoy said apologetically, shovelling a forkful of food into his mouth.

“It’s wery nice,” said Chekov. He ate one-handed, holding a sleeping Demora in the crook of his arm. “You make excellent cornbread.”

“Old family recipe.” McCoy shrugged, unused to having his cooking skills praised.

“I didn’t know your ancestors vere from Russia,” Chekov deadpanned. McCoy gave him a quizzical look across the table. He looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms and said softly, “Did you know cornbread was inwented in Russia, Demi?”

“That kid’s gonna grow up believin’ all sorts of rubbish,” McCoy protested.

Chekov looked up at him, a wide grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

It Takes a Starship to Raise a Child

Sulu kissed his husband goodbye at the turbolift bank and set off down the corridor toward the ship’s daycare facility, a bounce in his step despite his tiredness at the end of a long shift.

“Daddy!” Demora rushed at him, arms outstretched as soon as the door slid open.

“Hi, little one.” Sulu scooped her up in his arms and grimaced when she immediately slapped a paint-covered hand against his cheek. “We’d better clean you up, eh?” He said, heading toward the row of sinks on the back wall of the large, open-plan space. She nodded and wiped her hands down the front of her father’s uniform. “Or, you could just clean your hands on me,” Sulu grinned at a daycare worked who was watching the exchange with obvious enjoyment.

“Yeah.” Demora nodded her head solemnly as she wiped the last residue of paint from the backs of her fingers on Sulu’s sleeve.

“You ready to go home, sweetheart?” Sulu asked his daughter. Demora nodded again. “Good, because Papa’s replicating dinner. Shall we say goodbye to our friends?”

Sulu and Demora waved goodbye to the daycare staff, and he carried her out of the facility and through the ship to their quarters, where they were greeted by the aroma of freshly-replicated blinis and Chekov smirking at the sight of the pair covered in smears of blue paint.

Parents are Supposed to Embarrass their Teenagers

“Dad! Pa!” Demora yelled from the top of the stairs. “Do you _have_ to be so embarrassing when my friends are here?”

Sulu grinned at his husband as their teenage daughter’s bedroom door slammed shut. He lunged at Chekov and pressed the point of his fencing foil into his chest.

“Hey! Zat vasn’t fair!” Chekov complained. “I vas distracted.”

“And now you’re dead. I stabbed you through the heart.” Sulu smirked.

“Alright, I’m dead.” Chekov lowered his broadsword and leaned close to Sulu as if to kiss him. Just as Sulu reached out to touch his cheek, Chekov whacked the flat of his sword across his husband’s buttocks. The resulting undignified screech elicited another stream of shouted admonishments from behind Demora’s closed bedroom door.

Shopping

Uhura teetered delicately along the pavement in impossibly high stilettos. Demora and Chapel clomped along in their respective sneakers and sensible flats a little way behind her. The reached the small boutique, nestled discreetly in the middle of a parade of up-market shops.

“We’re going to find you something so beautiful your parents won’t even recognise you,” Uhura said confidently as they entered the shop.

“Demi, you look like a tsarina,” Chekov breathed, his newly-appointed-to-the-rank-of-captain husband grinning from ear-to-ear beside him.

“I said Nyota and Chris would help me find something glamorous for Dad’s promotion ceremony, didn’t I?” Demora laughed.

Graduation

“Ensign Demora Pavlovna Sulu.” Admiral Kirk glanced up from the list of names to wink at his two friends and colleagues seated in the audience.

Demora, her uniform starched and ironed, its polished rank insignia glinting in the bright lights, stepped onto the stage. Sulu’s fingers dug into Chekov’s arm as their daughter crossed to the podium. Chekov covered his husband’s hand with his own shaky, slightly sweaty palm.

“She’s done it,” Chekov whispered.

“She has,” Sulu whispered back. “Our daughter the Starfleet officer.”

Chekov drew in a deep breath, his chest puffing out with pride.

On stage, Demora shook the Admiral’s hand, took her scroll, exchanged a few pleasantries, and walked off. Kirk read out the next name on his list.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Chulu fic! I love the disaster baby tran that is Pavel Chekov in TOS and I only want good things for him and Sulu is Good Thing™, so I let them be a happy little family together. They have so much love for each other and their kid, and I hope I conveyed that here.
> 
> Anyway, I thrive on your validation, so please comment/kudos if you enjoyed it 💕


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